


Amber Light

by Nothing_You_Can_Prove



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:30:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_You_Can_Prove/pseuds/Nothing_You_Can_Prove
Summary: Chloe Price's life turned upside down when Rachel Amber disappeared - stuck in limbo, unable and unwilling to move forward. Maybe all she needs is a push in the right direction from an unexpected, lingering ghost from her past.





	Amber Light

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be a multi-chapter thing, but since I'm short on time and wanna make sure I finish it, condensed one shot it is, lol.

**Amber Light**

One week.

It had been one whole week since Rachel Amber went missing. Seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Aka, _too fucking long._

Nobody took her disappearance seriously for the first twenty-four hours, expecting her to turn up out of the blue. Wouldn’t be the first time. She was a free spirit, coming and going as she pleased. A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. When she didn’t return any messages - a complete social limbo - everyone started to worry, Chloe Price most of all. This wasn't like Rachel. Completely out of character. Sure, there were moments of temporary radio silence, but they _never_ lasted longer than a day. Ever.

The one thing that scared her more than anything was silence.

Concern rising, Chloe had gone to Arcadia Bay's Police Station and given them as many details as she could: a physical description, photos, when and where she had last seen Rachel, names of people she hung out with, places she frequented… anything that might help.

So far, they had nothing. Less than nothing.

Frustrated by the lack of progress, she printed a million Missing Person posters and plastered Arcadia Bay. At Blackwell, the Two Whales, all around town. Rachel was famous – infamous some might say - around the Bay and yet, nobody knew where she was. Or if they did, they refused to reveal.

Now, all Chloe could do was wait for... _something_.  

“Where are you, Rachel?” she whispered, tears flowing down her cheeks.  

She felt so pathetic right now, curled up in a ball on her bed under the covers. Paralyzed by despair. Mind clouded by anxiety and depression, weighing her down. Tortured by the worst possible outcomes, vividly imagined.  Fluctuating between immense emotional distress and complete numbness.

_Suffocating_.

It felt like an eternity since she'd heard Rachel voice, seen that mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes or been hit with the subtle hints of jasmine from her golden mane. Rachel was her everything. The one person who hadn't fucked her over. The only person keeping her sane after all the bullshit. Her heart _ached_ , twisted with soul-crushing fear. She felt empty, emptier than she had in years. Fuck, Chloe missed her. _Needed her._

_Without her, what was the point?_

"Shit..."

The word was lost to a heart-wrenching sob, emanating from her very core. How many tears had she cried over the past week? More than she had in a long time. Not since her dad died and "best friend" left. The panic rose from the pit of her stomach.

Did Rachel leave Arcadia without her or...?

As painful as the first possibility was, a total betrayal, the latter was _much_ scarier. Chloe loved Rachel, more than she had anyone. So much it twisted her emotions to the extreme. She had been at her happiest and saddest around Rachel. Unforgettable memories of late nights, stolen kisses and a million ways to say those three cliché words. Terrible fights, regrettable arguments and heightened insecurity. Broken hearts fixed piece by piece, old wounds healed and new meanings forged by fire.  

Rachel wasn't perfect. Neither was Chloe. Life sure as hell wasn't. That didn’t matter. It never had. Being together, that was all they cared about.

That thought made her curl up even tighter, hugging herself and burying her face. Her stomach churned, heart beating with a dull thud which resounded in her chest. Why had this happened? If wasn't fair.

_What kind of world did this?_

Before she could get too lost in that thought, she heard something. Footsteps? Wondering if Joyce had snuck into her room, she lifted the blanket up slightly to check. She hadn't spoken to her mother properly all week. When she did, it ended up with her verbally lashing out. She didn't mean to. It was a reflex, one she wasn't proud of.

Bloodshot eyes widened as she peered out. A blond man leaned against her desk. His stubbled face was slightly blurred, outline hazy - gray checked flannel, white undershirt and dark jeans. On his left hand sat a gold wedding band, dented and worn.

William Price.

_“Hey there, kiddo,"_ he greeted softly, his voice distorted as her mind tried to piece together memories of what he actually sounded like after all these years. _"It’s been a while, huh.”_

Confused, Chloe wiped her face with her hands, regaining as much composure as possible before pushing the blanket aside and sitting up. “Dad… what’re you doing here?”

He shrugged.  _“Only you know that answer.”_

William died five years ago, involved in a car crash. Chloe had been fourteen at the time, never even got the chance to say goodbye. Before she met Rachel, her mind fabricated an image of him, hoping to guide her during troubled times. He was always cryptic, only able to answer what she already knew. Even so, it brought her some false sense of comfort.

It made her feel less alone.

Sighing, she spoke those words she felt afraid to. The moment she did, they would become  _real_. “I feel so… lost.”

_“Just like you did when Max left?”_ he asked, head tilting to the side slightly, reminiscent of a curious bird.

Even now, the mention of Max made her heart sting a little. “Worse. At least I knew where she was… even if she pretended I didn't exist.” The afterthought was mumbled, too painful.

William nodded sagely. _“Ah yes, more like a treasure hunt this time. You just have to piece the map together first.”_

“I don’t even know where to start.”

She tried posters, nothing. Nobody wanted to talk to her about it, either not caring or having nothing important to say. People didn't seem interested. That or they were in denial.

Expression stoic, he stood up straight and walked around to the other side of the bed, stopping to inspect the scribbled-out height chart on the wall. _“Don’t you?"_

"No, okay?!" she snapped angrily. "I don't fucking know. If I did, do you think I'd be lying here freaking out?"

Her throat constricted as panic flooded through her system. An invisible weight crushed her lungs. Breaths came shorter and sharper. William didn't react to her anger, instead calmly turning to look out of the window. Not much had changed about Cedar Avenue since his death. More rundown, perhaps. Left to slowly deteriorate until everything was dust.

_"Carbon deposits,"_ he finally stated.

Chloe frowned, very confused by the random statement. "What?"

_"Carbon deposits,"_ he repeated, blue eyes falling on the currently empty driveway. _"A natural byproduct of gasoline combustion in vehicles."_

"Dad, this isn't the time for a mechanics lesson. Especially when it's something I already know."

_"Who said it was?"_ He turned to her with a sad smile. _"If left to build up, it'll hinder performance."_

Already tired of the oncoming analogy, she tried to speed him up. "Like I said, I know. So, what's the point?"

Ignoring the interruption, he pressed forward, _"Feelings build up like carbon deposits. There is a limit before it becomes detrimental. judgment is clouded by built-up negativity. We make more mistakes, miss out on opportunities because of it." He looked her dead in the eyes, more serious than she had ever seen him. "Sometimes, we have to clear them away to move forward. To function again."_

Before she could speak again, she heard an engine. Heaving herself out of bed, she peered out of the window. An unfortunately familiar blue muscle car.

David was home.

"You've got to be kidding me..." she muttered under her breath.

When she turned around to speak to William again, he was gone. His words still lingered, haunting her mind.  

"Carbon deposits..." she repeated softly, an idea slowly forming.

It was stupid, likely to be shut down before it even had the chance to start. What other choice did she have?

Mentally motivating herself, she stood up and headed downstairs. Her eyes lingered on the bathroom door, wondering when the last time was that she showered. She couldn't remember. Things like personal hygiene came low on the list of concerns. Hearing noises from David's workshop, she took a deep breath and approached his man cave. The garage door was open, his pride and joy parked up while he searched for the right tools.   

Swallowing the overwhelming instinctual urge to insult him, she hesitantly called out, “David…”

“Chloe.” He almost sounded surprised, not expecting her to voluntarily start a conversation with him.

“I…" this was a lot harder than she had expected, "need your help.”

David’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, the first time she’d seen him genuinely shocked. His jaw even dropped a fraction. “You… need my help?”

Swallowing her pride, Chloe nodded. “Yes.”

Clearly confused, he closed his eyes. His mustache twitched ever so slightly as he considered the bizarre proposal. Seconds felt like hours.  

“What with?”

Now came the hard part. “I need to find Rachel.”

His face crumpled up at the name, mild disgust. “Rachel Amber. Blackwell’s very own saint.”

Not wanting to hear him hate on Rachel, Chloe interrupted him, “David, she’s been missing for a week. She’s skipped class, nobody knows where she is. She hasn’t even dropped me a text. That’s… not like her.”

“I guess you would know, given how much you guys…" he paused, "hung out.”  

“Look, I don’t care if you hate her. Or if you think she’s a bad influence on me. Or whatever else you think. She’s my…” Chloe faltered, sighing heavily.  

Dark eyes softened, David's normally gruff voice gentle. “I know what she is to you, Chloe. You two were hardly subtle.”

Her mouth opened in protest, tongue poised to strike with harsh words. If she wanted David’s help… well, more like she _needed_ it, she would have to tread carefully.

No sass.  

Thankfully, he cut in before the biting sarcasm overflowed. “How do you know she hasn’t just run away on her own?”

“She _wouldn’t_ do that to me!” Chloe snapped back defensively, fists clenched. This was less out of anger and more to stop herself from visibly shaking. “She just… wouldn’t, okay.”

She _hated_ the way her voice broke at the end of her sentence. Feeling vulnerable was bad enough, showing it in front of someone was way worse… especially when that someone was David.

To his credit, David remained silent. His jaw tightened at the raised voice, body tensing then relaxing at the defeated tone.

“Chloe.” He let the word linger, at a loss. “I know we… haven’t always seen eye to eye,” he paused shaking his head. “No, I’ve been an asshole sometimes. I’ll admit that.”

Blue eyes widened, astounded that the mustache monster would ever openly  _admitted_ to that. David was as stubborn as she was, a fatal flaw they shared.

“I guess I haven’t always been… you know…” Chloe’s lips pursed, her own confession near impossible to utter.

David nodded stiffly, accepting the unspoken apology. They still had a long way to go to understand each other, but maybe this was a decent start. A willingness.

“Alright. I’ll help.”

The words still caught her by surprise. David had always been an aggressive dictator in her eyes, thousands of creative insults proved that. Finding him so agreeable set all the warning alarms off in her head.

She quelled them just long enough to accept. “Thanks.”

For a fleeting second, she swore she could see his lip quirk up into a slight smile.

* * *

About two hours had passed since Chloe asked David for help. In that time, they had corroborated all the information they possibly could. Anything that might help. There wasn’t much to go on but they weren’t about to give up now.

“So, we have two main groups of interest: the Amber family and the Vortex Club,” David summarized, on his third cup of coffee.

“Right.”

He rolled his shoulders, body cracking loudly. “I’m surprised the Ambers didn’t contact you.”

“They did. I talked to them about everything I knew, then they cut me out. Told me they’d take care of everything.” Chloe frowned, recalling James’ thinly veiled disapproval. “I think… her dad blames me for all this.”

One of David’s eyebrows raised, curious. “Why’s that?”

“Because I exposed him for the lying douchebag he is three years ago. Rachel didn’t want anything to do with him after that. He probably thinks I’m a bad influence, that I led her astray. Sound familiar?” It was almost impossible to keep the bitterness locked up. Before it could take over, she moved on. “The Vortex Club. Bunch of assholes who refused to talk to me or didn’t know anything. My bet? Victoria or Nathan could know something.”

“Prescott…” David growled at the name. “Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been pushing the limits since day one. Wells is too much of a coward to do anything. Where do you want to start?”

“The Ambers, I think.”

Both would be tough, but it was best to start with the people who gave a shit about Rachel.

_Probably._

* * *

Chloe pulled up just down the street from the Amber house. The journey over had been mostly awkward silence. No surprises there. Both she and David got out of her beat-up truck, eyes darting towards the impressive building. It felt even less inviting than the first time she saw it.

Swallowing her nerves, she approached the door and knocked. Then, she waited.

Eventually, the door opened revealing a woman with mid-length brown hair. “Chloe?”

She stared Rose Amber down, determined. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t-”

“I’m _not_ taking no for an answer.”

Realizing this was a battle she wouldn’t win, Rachel’s mother sighed. “Alright…”

Reluctantly, Rose stepped aside to let them inside. Passing David a quick sideways glance, Chloe entered the house. She hadn’t set foot in this place for years. Not since they packed up Rachel’s stuff and basically moved her into the Price residence. She remembered the very first time she was here vividly, when everything started to go wrong.

“Would you… like a drink?” Rose offered, clearly stalling for time.

“No, thanks.”

Rose nodded, grabbing a mug and pouring out coffee with shaky hands. She looked so damn exhausted, like she hadn’t slept at all over the past week. No, make that few weeks. After taking a sip, she sat down in one of the armchairs, weakly motioning to the couch.

“Please, take a seat.”

David took the other armchair, while Chloe perched herself on the couch. “This is my step-dad, Blackwell security.”

“Yes, we have… met, albeit briefly. Mr. Madsen, right?”

“David is fine.”

“Right, David.” There was an uneasy silence, nobody sure what to say. “I assume you’re here about Rachel.”

Chloe nodded. “I need to know everything you do.”

“My husband and the police are handling it.”

Gritting her teeth, Chloe snapped. “Yeah, really handling it. Tell me, have they found her? Are they even close?”

“I… no.”

“We’re wasting time here. Every second could count.”

“What could you possibly do that the authorities can’t?!” Rose practically shouted, her eyes watery and voice quivering. She looked ashamed, slowly turning sad. “I’m… sorry. I just want her home.”

“That’s all I want, too.”

It felt like they were getting closer. Just a little more and she’d crack.

David, who had been mostly quiet until now, spoke up, “I’ll tell you exactly what we can do that they can’t. We’re not bound by the Prescotts. You know as well as I do that they hold the monopoly here. Now, I don’t know if they’re connected or not, but one thing’s for damn sure: we’ll do anything to find out.”

Seeming to understand, Rose nodded. She almost looked scared, doing her best to hide it. “You… you’d be willing to do anything?”

“Yes,” Chloe and David replied in unison, the bluenette following up with, “Will you do the same?”

It only took a few seconds for her to cave. “Yes.”

Chloe grabbed a small scrap of paper from her pocket and a chewed pen. A detective, just like she used to play with Max. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Rose fidgeted uncomfortably. “It’s… complicated. James hasn’t seen her in months now. After everything with Sera, she never forgave him.”

She almost felt bad. Not for James, he could go fuck himself, but for Rose. Sure, she kept Sera a secret too, but she seemed to actually care about Rachel. He might’ve too once, before self-preservation instinct consumed him.

“But you _have_ seen her,” David insisted, wanting to keep them on track.

“I have. About two weeks ago, actually. We’ve been meeting in secret for the past year or so. James is always at work, either physically and mentally, so he doesn’t notice. He’s been so distant since Rachel rejected him.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Chloe couldn’t help herself from asking.

“Where else would I go?” Rose’s shoulders slumped. “Besides, I had hoped things would get better, that Rachel would come back, but… she didn’t. I don’t blame her for that. I guess… I wanted everything to go back to how it used to be. Foolish, I know.”

David shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.”

Chloe wouldn’t leave until they got something useful out of her. “Did she say anything strange when you saw her?”

“She… didn’t say much, actually. Very unlike her. Flat.”

Rachel hid her struggles from most people, played whatever role they needed her to fulfill. A mask to protect herself. Chloe had seen a different side, so many nobody else was allowed to know about. They weren’t always pretty, but they were still Rachel Amber. The girl she loved with all her heart and soul.

“I asked her how school was going, if you were well. She said yes to both, refusing to elaborate too much. I… tried to convince her to come back home. She went very quiet, put some money on the table for her coffee and left.”

“And that was it?”

Considering something, Rose shook her head. “Well, before she left, she turned to me. She told me something. ‘Mom, Arcadia is cursed. You should leave… while you still can.’ That was it.”

“Cursed?” David repeated with a frown.

“I don’t really understand what she meant,” Rose admitted, equally confused. “Maybe she didn’t either. I could tell she was exhausted, stressed. If I had just stopped her then…”

“It’s not your fault, Rose,” Chloe reassured. The only person she really blamed was James.

“Perhaps not entirely. I had my part to play, though.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, sighing deeply. “I think you should leave now. James will be back soon.”

Chloe had no desire to see him; the man who helped ruin Rachel’s life. Someone she should’ve been able to trust unconditionally. All he did was lie to her, at first to protect… but that was never his choice to make.

Walking them to the door, she didn’t close it straight away. “If I… learn anything new, I’ll let you know. I’m glad she has someone like you in her life, Chloe. Even if James doesn’t see it that way. If… no, _when_ we find her, I’ll work hard to change his mind.”

“Thanks.”

It felt really fucking strange to have someone in her corner for a change. Almost wrong. That was just because she wasn’t used to it. Well, aside from Rachel.

They left the Amber house, no lingering trace.

* * *

_"Chloe…”_

The voice echoed, pulling her from slumber. Tired blue eyes flickered open, mind clouded.

_“Who…?”_

Her question was answered before it was even asked. By a single laugh. Familiar and genuine. Gradually, a form faded into existence, its ghostly presence filling with color. Pale skin, long golden locks, shimmering hazel eyes and a blue feather.

_“Did you fall asleep on me? Rude.”_

_“I…”_

Chloe felt fingers gently run through her hair, silencing any doubts. Everything felt… warm. Comforting.

_“Hmm? Come on, let’s hear your excuse, Price. You always have one.”_

She glanced up at the girl above, watching her lips curl into a mischievous smirk and her eyes fill with adoration. It was enough to make her heart ache. Instinctively, she reached up to put a hand on her cheek, eyes widening when her fingers passed through.

_“This… you’re not real,”_ Chloe muttered under her breath, heart slowly filling with despair where joy had once been.

Rachel’s expression shifted, heartbreaking. _“What if you’re the one who isn’t real? What if neither of us is real? What if the only place we can exist is in someone else’s head? Who’s to say what’s real?”_

_“You’re not here.”_ Chloe’s voice wavered, feeling the sting of tears.

Rachel seemed to consider her response for a moment. _“Does that make me any less real?”_

Before Chloe could reply, Rachel leaned down and kissed her. She could only feel the faint sensation on her lips, maybe it was just a distant memory, but she clung to it. Her life raft in a sea of hopelessness.

_“You’ll find me, Chloe,”_ she whispered as she pulled away.

_“What if… I find something I don’t want to?”_

Instead of replying, Rachel offered a mysterious smile - so many emotions in one, impossible to decipher - before fading away once more.

* * *

When Chloe woke up, she desperately tried to get back to sleep. She wanted to be there again, even if the Rachel in her head wasn’t _real_ real _._ It didn’t work. Her cheeks were wet with recently shed tears, body shaking.

Rachel presence lingered in every corner. Chloe didn’t have the strength to hide it away, to accept that she might never see her again. The clothes that used to smell so strongly of her perfume, faded photos and graffiti decorating the walls, a makeshift light that could turn any room into an observatory… all the memories.

She just couldn’t lose anyone else. Especially not Rachel.

“Chloe! I’m making breakfast. You want some?”

She was surprised Joyce even tried anymore. Every morning was the same. She would call for her, then come upstairs and it slowly turned into an argument. Not today.

Wiping her eyes, Chloe sat up and headed over to the bathroom. “Yeah. Be down in a minute.”

There was a loud clattering from downstairs, maybe her mom dropping something from the shock of getting an answer. Chloe locked the bathroom door, checking herself out in the mirror before stepping into the shower. Dark circles lined her eyes, not a great look. Once dry, she changed into clean clothes, for the first time in a week, and went to the kitchen.

Joyce still looked surprised but happy when she entered the room. “Figured food would be the thing that tempted you down here eventually.”

Shrugging, Chloe poured them out a coffee and brought the mugs over to the table. Plating up, Joyce placed the pancakes down and sat opposite.

_“Wish I could eat those.”_ Chloe glanced to her left, spotting the ghostly figure of her father. _“It’s been too long without your mother’s cooking.”_

“So…” Joyce paused, uncertain what to say.

William watched her struggling then turned to his daughter. _“You should apologize to her, you know. I don’t like seeing you guys fight. And I know you don’t like it, either.”_

Ignoring him, Chloe grabbed a pancake and covered it in syrup. She picked up a fork and went to go stab it, noticing the obvious shake in her hand. Staring at it, she let her shoulders slump. Why did it have to be like this?

“I’m… sorry I’ve been a total bitch this past week,” she mumbled softly, poking her food.

Joyce looked like she was about to cry. “Oh, Chloe… no, I’m the one who should be sorry. I know it’s been... hard and I sure didn’t help.”

“I guess we’re both sorry, then.”

“I guess so.”

The rest of their meal was silent, but nowhere near as uneasy as it had been the past week. William remained by Chloe’s side the whole time, happy enough. It felt like they weren’t a broken, incomplete family.

_Almost._

* * *

Chloe’s next port of call was Blackwell. She hadn’t set foot on campus for a few days, too depressed to even face the possibility. The school brought back so many bittersweet feelings of nostalgia and resentment. As much as she wanted to turn back, she had to do this. For Rachel’s sake. And her own.

Sighing, she headed towards the Prescott Dorms. She checked her phone, hoping she’d timed it right. Not looking where she was going, she smacked straight into someone.

“Hey! Watch it.” The snide voice was painfully recognizable.

Chloe looked up, coming face to face with none other than Blackwell’s self-appointed Queen Bee, Victoria Chase. Just who she wanted to see. Even better, she didn’t have her minions.

“We need to talk.”

Victoria frowned, crossing her arms. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Price.”

When she tried to pass by, Chloe blocked her. “You’re wrong, Chase. I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied.”

Her arch nemesis scoffed, a cruel smirk plastered to her face. “Oh my god, such a stalker. You don’t waste time, do you?”

“What?”

“Rachel’s been gone a week and you’re already looking for your next victim. Are you that desperate? Gross.”

Chloe’s fists clenched, backing Victoria against a wall and slamming her fist beside her head. “I am _not_ fucking around here. Cut the bullshit already.”

For a second, Victoria actually looked scared, her mask slipping. “Look, I don’t know where she is. Why would I?”

“You’re not exactly sad she’s missing.”

“Are you…?” Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Wow, you think I did something to her?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Chloe’s jaw tightened just thinking about all the awful shit Victoria had put them through, Rachel especially.

“I didn’t like Rachel, but I wouldn’t do anything to seriously hurt her. You know what I think? She had enough of this place and left. I don’t blame her.”

“She wouldn’t leave without me!”

“Right, suuuuure.” Her condescending tone made something in Chloe snap.

Anger surging through her body, she pulled her hand back to slap Victoria across the face. Something latched onto her wrist, stopping her. She turned back, ready to tear into whoever was holding her back.

“David. Get off me.”

His expression was stern, grip tightening. “Chloe, that’s enough. This won’t help you find Rachel.” He focused on Victoria as she struggled to get out of his hold, eyes narrowing. “For your sake, Miss Chase, I hope you don’t know anything about Miss Amber’s disappearance. If you do, not even your family’s name will protect you.”

Hiding the shock from the narrowly avoided slap, Victoria crossed her arms. “You don’t scare me. Besides, I don’t know anything. Instead of playing detective, you should stick to doing your job and not letting psychopaths onto campus.”

“Fuck you, you uptight bitch!” Chloe shouted after her as she left, pulling hard against David’s grip.

He dragged her away from the main part of campus, away from prying eyes. Halfway round, she stopped struggling, lost all her fight. When he was sure she wouldn’t lash out again, he let her go.

“Chloe. You can’t do that. If you get arrested for beating up someone like Victoria, you will never find Rachel.”

Her shoulders slumped, eyes fixed to the ground. “Does it matter? I probably won’t find her anyway…”

His body relaxed, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. “That’s not the Chloe Price I know.”

She moved away, brushing his hand off. “You don’t know me.”

David shook his head, adjusting his cap. “Oh, I think I do. Stubborn as a mule, loyal as hell and a fighter. You won’t give up until you’ve found her.”

Jaw tightening - she _hated_ admitting he was right - she stood up straighter. “I guess.”

“Don’t let bratty rich kids like Victoria tear you down. You’re stronger than she could ever be. If I had _her_ as a stepdaughter, there’d be no hope.”

“Oh, so there’s hope for me, huh.”

“Always has been. That’s… why I pushed you so hard.” Guilt consumed his face. “If I could go back, I’d do things differently. Given you more credit.”

Chloe sighed deeply. How many things would she do differently if she had the power to change the past? “You don’t have to go back to change things.”

Understanding that she had accepted his apology, he nodded. “So, what now?”

Rubbing her face with her hands, she groaned. “I gotta talk to Nathan.”

“I could do that,” David offered.

“You’ll probably scare him too much.”

He didn’t argue. “Alright. I think I saw him head over to the photography room. Would fit with his usual schedule.”

“You really do track everyone.” Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Not well enough,” he added sadly. “I’ll wait around in the main corridor. If you need back up, I’m there. Let me know when you’re finished.”

A rough plan formed, Chloe rushed over to the classroom. She hoped Nathan would be there alone. Cautiously, she approached the door and peered inside. He was there on his own. _Perfect._ She slid inside, shutting the door behind her. That drew Nathan’s attention.

He sneered when he saw her, stance guarded. “What the fuck are _you_ doing here?”

“Looking for you. Your turn.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’ll decide that.” She took a step closer to him, fists clenching ready to attack. “Do you know where Rachel is?”

Pausing, he looked down at the floor. “I already said. No.”

Chloe strode across the classroom, getting in his face. “Tell me the truth, asshole. I know she talked to you sometimes.”

That made him laugh, short and sharp. “Ha. You don’t know _anything_. About me or Rachel.”

Fighting the urge to punch him in the face, she stood her ground. “Oh, I know plenty about Rachel.”

“Then why are you asking me where she is if you know so much?”

“ _Because_ you’re always involved with sketchy shit,” she hissed through gritted teeth. He was testing her patience.

“Like you can fucking talk,” he growled back. “My school and criminal records are clean. How about yours?”

“Money can make miracles happen. Now, tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything,” he insisted, puffing out his chest with fake confidence. “Now back off.”

“Like _hell_ I believe that.”

“What’s going on here?”

They both turned towards the new voice. A man, brown hair, beard and glasses. Chloe had seen him around. Mark Jefferson, the photography teacher. Nathan tensed, looking scared.

“Nothing…”

Jefferson’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is that so?”

Noticing the fear in his eyes, Chloe realized now was not the best time to continue this. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Well, if it really is nothing, you better move along, hmm?”

Chloe looked at him then Nathan, shrugging. On her way out, the younger boy smacked into her. “Hey! Watch it.”

“Sorry…” He looked out of the corner of his eye, then whispered, “Check your pocket. Later.”

Confused, she left as quickly as possible. David was waiting for her, looking concerned then relieved when she appeared.

“How’d it go?”

“Got interrupted by Jefferson, but…” She dug around in her pocket, taking out a crumpled piece of ripped paper.

**Meet me in my dorm room. Room 111. Tomorrow, after class. Don’t let anyone see you.**

“Huh, this totally doesn’t sound like a trap or anything.”

She handed the note to David, who’s mustache twitched as he read it through. “Are you going to meet him?”

“I don’t have much choice.”

Conflicted about the decision, he rolled his shoulders. “I will wait outside. Bastard won’t get away with anything.”

Chloe looked at the man she had fought with all these years. They were far from friends, but… “Thank you, David. Really.”

For the first time maybe  _ever_ , he offered her a genuine, unmistakable smile.

* * *

Crackling heat.

Chloe coughed, limbs weak and achy. It felt like she’d been hit by a truck. The air was thick with smoke, impossible to see more than a foot or two. When she tried to get up, her arms gave way and she fell face first into ash.

_“Get up.”_

She managed to lift her head just enough to locate the voice. Through the smoke, she caught sight of a shadowy figure.

_“I can’t.”_

_“Yes, you can. You just think you can’t,”_ the voice replied calmly.

Before Chloe could say or do anything, she was roughly dragged to her feet. The force almost toppled her over again.

_“Who the f-?”_

She stopped dead in her tracks, words failing her. The smoke cleared, revealing a forest clearing. Most of the surrounding trees were charred, crumbling away with each gust of wind. Dusty earth and burning embers swirled around her, dancing. In the center, she noticed a small group of animals laying there. Asleep, perhaps? A doe, a raven and a butterfly. They all glowed faintly - red, purple and blue respectively.

Drawn to them, she shuffled across the ash-covered forest floor. As she approached them, the colorful outline grew brighter, almost blinding. She shielded her eyes, blindly stepping forward. Just as she was close enough to touch them, the ground beneath her feet disintegrated.

_Falling_.

* * *

With a loud thud, Chloe fell to the floor. Her body jolted, expecting to be smeared across the ground. Once the initial shock faded, she realized she was still in her room. She laid there for a while, staring at the stained ceiling.

Was this all a waste of time? Was she clinging on to false hope?

“No,” she muttered, dragging herself to her feet. “It’s not. I’m not.”

She was so damn tired of doubting everything. For once, she would believe without hesitation. In Rachel, in their friendship and love, in herself.

* * *

The next afternoon, David let her into the boys’ dorm, she took a deep breath and walked around to Nathan’s room. A little nervous, she knocked on his door. It opened, Nathan beckoning her inside. He shut the door behind them, hunched with crossed arms.

“I’m here. What do you want?”

“Did anyone see you?” he asked, eyes darting from side to side.

“No.”

Nathan let out a deep sigh, relaxing slightly. He was still tense, but nowhere near as much as a few seconds ago. “Stop asking about Rachel.”

Frowning, Chloe shook her head. “No way, asshole. Not until I’ve found her.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, _you_ don’t understand. She’s been missing for a week. _She’s my fucking girlfriend._ I’m not just gonna give up because some rich kid tells me to.” Her voice was little more than a low growl at this point.

“It’ll put you both in danger…” he stopped dead in his tracks, folding in on himself more. “That’s all I can say.”

Before she even realized what she was doing, she had Nathan pinned against the closest wall. Action bypassed thought. “Listen, fuckface.”

“Hey! Get off me!” he whined, clawing at her hands.

She lifted him off the wall then smacked him against it, earning a pained oof. “You are going to tell me what you know, or you’ll leave this room in a body bag. They won’t even be able to tell which part goes where when I’m finished. Got it?”

Chloe had never felt this enraged before. Every cell in her body felt charged, it made her feel invincible. Like she could rip Nathan Prescott like wet paper. No hesitation.

He stopped struggling, genuine fear creeping into his eyes. She could feel him shake as her grip tightened on his shirt. “P-please, don’t hurt me…”

Annoyed and frustrated, she let him go. “God, you’re pathetic. Start talking and I won’t.”

“I didn't… she…” The boy before he broke down into tears.

She rolled her eyes, waiting for him to finish. Part of her felt bad for this, but it was the only way to find Rachel. Nathan obviously knew _something._ She just had to find out what.

“Jefferson,” he managed to say through tears.

“The art teacher? What about him?”

It took him a few moments to prepare himself. When he looked up, his blue eyes were filled with fear and tears. “He… he… was going to _kill_ her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chloe’s heart and stomach dropped, refusing to believe. Who would want to kill Rachel? And why? None of it made any sense.

He stuttered and stumbled over his words. “He has a fucked up photo bunker, where he d-drugs and takes pictures of students. Rachel… didn’t meet his expectations. He was gonna give her an o-overdose and blame _me_.”

“Prescott… don’t even try to fuck with me.”

“I’m not,” he insisted, flinching at her aggressive tone. “Why would I make this up? He’s f-fucking _crazy_. She… told me that was his plan. I- I don’t know how she knew. I didn’t want that, _never_ wanted that. So, I switched the dose, b-buried her… then dug her back up. Jefferson thinks she’s dead.”

“But… she’s alive?”

Sniffling, he nodded. “I- I wanted to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell the cops? Don’t the Prescotts own them?”

Nathan’s body deflated. “My dad does, not me. He’s part of Jefferson’s messed up shit. I don’t know why they’re doing this. They said… they’d _kill_ me if I said anything. I didn’t want to help him. Jefferson was nice to me at first, not like my father. I thought… he cared. He knew that, manipulated me. By the time I realized, it was too late. Keeping her safe was all I could do.”

“I want to see her. Now.”

Nodding, he took another torn piece of paper out of his pocket, scribbling something down. An address for a hotel out of town. “Meet me there. One hour.”

* * *

After de-briefing David, who was predictably enraged and eager to “take that son of a bitch down”, Chloe drove to the hotel. She was anxious, fingers drumming against the wheel. What if Nathan was bullshitting her?

She pulled into the tiny parking lot outside the run down building and went inside. It didn’t take her long to find the right room, cautiously knocking on the door. All she could do now was wait. Eventually, the door opened a fraction, then all the way.

The second she stepped inside, she saw her. Once long blonde hair cut short and dyed brown, hazel eyes hidden under light brown contacts, clothes she would _never_ choose to wear…

“Chloe?”

“Rachel… Oh, thank fuck. You’re alive.” Her voice was weak with emotion as she stumbled over to the bed, pulling her girlfriend into a tight hug.

“Barely.”

Chloe took her head in her hands, staring at a face she knew and loved. Leaning into her touch, Rachel made sure to keep hold of her too. It was the only thing grounding them both in reality now. They just about registered a door opening and closing, Nathan leaving to give them some space.

“Is it true? About Jefferson?”

Clinging onto her tight, Rachel laid down and nuzzled into her. “Yes. I… it’s all kinda hazy. He said he’d help me with my portfolio, maybe even pay me for some shots. Who would turn that chance down? We had a couple of photo sessions, then… things started getting weird. I didn’t feel comfortable with him anymore.”

“What did he do?” There was a hint of steel to Chloe’s question.

“Nothing, really. It was just… his vibe. Really creepy. The way he looked at me…” Rachel shuddered involuntarily at the memory. “I told him I didn’t want to do it anymore, that he could have the photos and money back if he wanted. He… tried to blackmail me.”

“How?”

“I was selling drugs for Frank. You know, for the runaway fund,” she explained sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably at the past. “Jefferson said he’d tell everyone and get me kicked out of Blackwell, ruin my career before it even started. I was scared, so I agreed. For a while. Just until I had enough money to get us both out of here.”

“Rach… you could’ve told me.”

Rachel shook her head solemnly. “No, I couldn’t. You’d be in danger. I saw what that motherfucker did to Nathan over nothing. I… didn’t even want to think about what he’d do to you. Especially to get to me...”

When she felt Rachel grip on tighter, Chloe gave her a firm squeeze. “Nathan helped you out.”

“Yeah, he did. Without him, I’d be…” Her sentence was swallowed up by silence. There was no need to finish it. “Anyway, I’m so sorry, Chloe. I wanted to come back, I really did. It almost killed me staying away…”

“It doesn’t matter now. We can deal with that asshole, then leave Arcadia. Fresh start.”

They didn’t even hear Nathan return until he spoke. “No, you two… need to get out of here.”

“We can’t, not with that predatory motherfucker on the loose,” Chloe spat, wanting to tear Jefferson from limb to limb.

“He won’t be much longer.” With shaking hands, Nathan pulled out a gun from his jacket. “Don’t worry, it’s not loaded. Yet.” He put it on the side, grabbing a backpack from the corner. “Here.”

Chloe frowned at it, taking the bag from him and putting it on the bed. When she opened it up, her eyes widened. Money. Lots of it. Also a small notebook. She flipped through it, finding a bunch of numbers.

“I know it doesn’t make up for… everything… but it should be enough to leave Arcadia.”

“You should come with us,” Rachel proposed. “We could all leave.”

Tempted for a fleeting moment, he sighed. “I can’t. You know I can’t. Not until I’ve tried to fix a few mistakes… I need to make sure my father pays, too. Jefferson comes first, though.”

“I’m going too,” Rachel stated firmly. “I need to make sure.”

“I guess we’re all going, then.” Chloe looked at the gun. “I’ll do it.”

Rachel shook her head. “Chloe, no. You can’t.”

“She’s right. Neither of you can,” Nathan stated solemnly. “You still have a chance for a clean break. Don’t risk losing it.”

“We _need_ to get out of Arcadia. It’s… cursed.” Her voice quivered as she hugged herself.

“You told your mom that, too.”

“You spoke to her?” Rachel’s surprise was short-lived, soon replaced by guilt. “Of course you did. I bet you looked everywhere for me…”

“Almost.” Chloe didn’t want to think about that now. “What do you mean, about Arcadia being cursed?”

“You just have to look around, right?” Rachel answered sheepishly. “You can almost _feel_ it in the air. Ever since I moved to Arcadia, everything’s gone to shit. Everything except meeting you. I don’t want to lose the one good thing in my life over this. Please, Chloe.”

“Okay...”

She didn't care, so long as it was over. After all this time, she  _needed_ it to be over.

* * *

Six months had passed since Chloe and Rachel left Arcadia Bay. Everything felt so surreal, like a distant nightmare. If it wasn’t for the media coverage, they would both swear it was just that. The Prescott scandal spread like wildfire, currently under investigation when they left the Bay. Nathan stayed behind, determined to clean up the mess his family made. David helped with the investigation as much as he was allowed, able to offer fresh perspective. Neither Chloe nor Rachel knew what happened next, didn’t care to, either. That part of their lives was over.

Mark Jefferson had never been found, many believing he fled Arcadia. Only four people knew the truth: Nathan Prescott, David Madsen, Chloe Price and Rachel Amber. A secret they would all take to the grave.

Chloe lounged around her and Rachel's tiny apartment. It wasn't much, but it was home. More than Arcadia Bay had ever been to either of them. While she waited for Rachel to get back from some photoshoot audition - she was starting to build up a fan base and experience - she sipped at her coffee and contemplated her newest tattoo sketch. Maybe one day, she could open up her own place. For now, she was happy enough designing. 

Chewing on her pencil, she tilted her head. A doe, a raven and a butterfly. Just as she was about to make another mark on the paper, her phone buzzed. Wondering if it might be Rachel, or maybe Joyce or David, she picked it up and opened the unread message, frowning when she realized it was from an unknown number. 

**Unknown: Chloe, this is Max**

**Unknown: You probably don’t want to hear from me ever again after… well, everything**

**Unknown: But I need to say I’m sorry. For everything**

**Unknown: what I did to you was unforgivable and i just hope you found someone who stuck by your side even when times got tough. I wish i could’ve been the friend you needed back then**

**Unknown: Anyway, if you want to talk, we can meet up. If not… I hope you get everything you deserve, the things life never gave you**

**Unknown: i hope this isn’t goodbye. see you around.**

Chloe stared at her phone, years worth of conflicted emotions cut through in seconds by a single, confusing thought.

“Wait… how did she get my new number?”

**Author's Note:**

> Might add a second part to this, buuuuuut no promises. Seeya round.


End file.
